Ah, you are better than I!' The trotting of the horses seemed to have again died away, and the pair of listeners touched each other's fingers in the cold 'Good-night' of those whom something seriously divided.

They were on the landing, but before they had taken three steps apart, the tramp of the horsemen suddenly revived, almost close to the house.

Lizzy turned to the staircase window, opened the casement about an inch, and put her face close to the aperture.

'Yes, one of 'em is Latimer,' she whispered.

'He always rides a white horse.